The state chronicle. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1883-1893, 1887-12-22

the sounding chambers thanking his stars
that he had been so wise. All, there lies
his money, thousands upon thousands.
Not dollar has he ever spent in shoeing
little feet that dig through the toes us fast
as you get them shod. Not a dollar he
paid for straw hats that are to have the
crown pushed out by tomorrow morning,
and stuck on the back of some triumphant
head. His money doesn't buy ribbons for
some one to deck welcome in, nor has a
cent of it ever gone for doctors bills. All,
l have been wise, | have been wise, he
chuckled, and he thought of the racket
those boys were making down there to-
night He heard the little ones singing
with their mother as he stood in the door
and the sound of the organ had come to
him. ''1es, borrowing money, sald he,
land paying interest while that squeak
ing thing sets open and wastes their time.
Three hundred dollars it cost, if a cent I
Yes, he had been wise, thank heaven.
There was no squeaking in his ears, and
no boys with their screaming and banging
to set him mad, and no woman to take up
his time with prattle and nonsense about
babies Here was bis time and his life s
earnings all within hands grasp, and bar
ring himself in he swung open the great
iron door
But ho! How the wind is blowing, and
it grows cold The old man gathered his
great coat about him and huddled over his
pile of treasure. Deeds of trust, and
mortgages, stocks, titles and crisp bills
from the treasury all lay by the heaps OF
yellow gold. His lean finger runs down
| the column of his ledger and he foots up
again the thousands the year has brought.
He fingers the hard coin and listens at the
music Of its tinkle. How it blows And
/ J :, In co
white, He starts What shakes the table
| and scatters the coin 1T is mine. 1t is
mine, mine, miner comes a wall on the
wind, while the house trembles and the
/ empty chambers sound with voices. or
/ his knees the old man grovelS for the roll
/ ing coins mine, mine, N l-n-e. roars
| the wind down the t1ues, and out OF the
! dead embers sprung a white phantom anC
/ whlrled about the old mans head anc
/ darkened the huttering candle flame
| With a scream like some wild thing ut
crouched on the floor and hid his face
But it was only paper fragment.
| thought he had come again, he muttereC
/ presently How nervous am tonight
| and there is such pain around my heart
| Tomorrow I'll see doctor. \ doctor
No, not |. I'm good for thirty years O.
more Ill laugh at pain and doctors too
! Thirty years and my thousands shall b
! millions. And then-then III bury m.
treasure and no man shall ever lay 1inge
upon it, | hate them one and all
Ho Ho, howled the wind. Ho' Ho
Ho it roared Nine, mine. screamed tn
voice from the housetop, and the storm
spirit slammed the swinging shutters ant
beat the great house till it rocked.
Yes, the storm spirit is abroad. ii
catches the old oaks in his arms ant
tt,.,X- tIyDfy thaI
dead branches away into the night In
boughs toss and wall, and the flying frag
ments rattle against the weather stalne'
house.
Within, the tattered curtain is tori
from the broken pane, and the breath Q
the blast snatches the titles from the olt
mans hand and Scatters them away. 'Ih
devil is aloose tonight he gasped, as h
clutched at the flying treasures. Bu
heavens a crash, a roar darkness, AM
a white spectre reached for the whlrlln
paper Backward across the table the oil
man fell Downward hung his head an
his limp fingers rested upon the floor an
then he did not move.
Into the open window howls the storm
Round and round the room whirls tn
bonds and deeds and titles; round an
round in a mad, wild dance. Like ghost
they chase each other and rustic the broke
bough that lies upon the floor. They tlnkl
the shiyered glass and hutter their whit
wings freed from the iron cage. l nde
!, the table they whirl and up over the silen
form stiffening in the night. They dane
, about the long, lean fingers and beat b
white ace that Is turned up towards tn
moonlight Into those fixed eyes the moo
, looked sadly down and its beams touche
the wall near him with a spectral line {
} light And presently the snow beat |
and the mist. And the gray dawn foun
/ him there.
: Merrlly the Christmas chimes ring OF
) in the winters morning carolllng peace
a million homes, and millions of lister
ing hearts beat fuller day for gladnes;
Childish faces are bright with glee, an
the lines of age are softer for some des
: heart remembrance. Bright is the wOrl
: to-day Only here ard there dwar
ed soul, like cold blooded toad, draw
back from the sunshine into its icy cay
of selfishness. But the face Of the wOrl
is bright And as its heart swells wit
happiness from happiness bestowed,
5 realizes that life may reap richer harve
: than hordes of yellow gold. For free
from the hands Of bigot men, the spirit
: a soul thrills the world to-day, bearing f;
up towards heaven human hearts upc
, tie mighty wings Of love
JOHN W. HAYS, JR.